


this is how it goes

by sunsetmog



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, Multi, Podfic Available, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-19
Updated: 2009-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:25:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon doesn't even know if he can call it a break up; they were only ever fucking around so he's pretty sure that they don't get to call what it is that they do <i>breaking up</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is how it goes

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://sunsetmog-fics.livejournal.com/44173.html) in August 2009.
> 
> Beta by elucreh. Thank you! All remaining errors are my own, however. Thanks also to the other people who read this through for me, and to boweryd for helping me out with one particular part. Set pre-split.
> 
> Podfic available [here](http://amplificathon.livejournal.com/1132449.html).

  
**this is how it goes**

They break up in Ohio, in a hotel room after a show. Jon doesn't even know if he can call it a break up; they were only ever fucking around so he's pretty sure that they don't get to call what it is that they do _breaking up_. 

It's something stupid that Spencer says, something off the cuff and thoughtless and Jon can feel the way the atmosphere changes the moment after he speaks. He says, _Maybe we should go away together, the three of us. Vacation, or whatever_.

"What?" Brendon says, scrambling to his feet. His eyes are wide. "Like, us, together? To do what?"

Spencer shrugs. "I don't know. More of this?" He waves his hand around, taking in the bed and the rumpled bedclothes and their clothes strewn across the floor. The two used condoms on the floor by the bed. 

"That's a fucking _stupid_ idea," Brendon says, quickly, and just like that, it's over. 

It takes more, arguing and shouting and Brendon being tightly, coldly upset and Spencer being angry and Jon being stuck in the middle, but that's it, essentially. Over before it really began.

-

"I'm a fucking idiot," Spencer says, later. "I scared him away."

Jon sighs, and tugs Spencer closer, wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders. "It's okay," Jon says. "We'll get him back."

Maybe it wasn't ever just fucking around.

-

Brendon's dancing with a girl, sweat-sticky and drunk and too close. He has his hand in the small of her back, grinding closer. She has her arms in the air and her knee in between his thighs; when he catches her eye, she laughs down at him and tips her head back.

-

They stand at the edge of the dance floor with their drinks and both pretend like they're not looking for him.

"He knows we can see," Spencer says. 

"Yeah," Jon nods. His stomach twists with jealousy and heat and desperation. 

Brendon's staring across at both of them, his eyes dark. He stares at them and leans in and kisses her, and Spencer turns around and grabs Jon by the wrist. 

"Come on," he says, and they go back to the hotel.

-

Jon presses Spencer back against the wall as their hotel room door shuts behind them, and Spencer rubs his thigh against Jon's erection.

Spencer tastes like rum when they kiss. 

Spencer takes off Jon's shirt and kisses his way down Jon's chest; Jon pushes him back down on to the bed and undoes his pants and fingers Spencer until he's keening, head tipped back against the sheets, throat bared, an invitation to someone who's some place else. 

Jon reaches up and presses his fingers to Spencer's collarbone as he takes the head of Spencer's cock in his mouth; it's not the same, but it works.

-

They meet in the lobby the morning after. Spencer has a mark peeking out from his shirt collar, bruises in the shape of Jon's fingertips.

When Brendon sees, his eyes widen. "So," he says, shakily. "You two. You're still—" he trails off. 

"Yeah," Spencer says, shortly. "Just because you didn't—"

Jon stops him, cups his elbow. He reaches out to Brendon, fingers grazing Brendon's wrist. "It's not," he starts. "We want you," he says. His thumb strokes Brendon's pulse. "It works with three."

Brendon ducks his head. "I can't," he says, tightly. "It's not right."

"It _is_ ," Spencer says, but Brendon pulls away from Jon's grip, his shoulders tense.

-

On the bus, Jon follows Spencer into the bathroom and buries his face in the curve of Spencer's neck.

-

Spencer's head hurts, and his skin feels tight. There's a bottle of ginger ale on the table in front of him. When the bus goes around a corner, or changes lanes, the bottle slides a little, just to one side, until it hits Spencer's finger and stops.

Ryan sits down beside him. "So," he says. 

"Yeah," Spencer says, and sighs. He tips his head back so it bumps against the wall. "How about not saying you knew this was going to end badly."

Ryan hums a little, low in his throat. "I never said that," he says, after a while. "But this wasn't ever going to work, you know that, right? Brendon—"

"I thought they were all for polyamory," Spencer interrupts, and he tries to laugh, like it's a joke, but it doesn't come out right. 

Ryan's elbow brushes Spencer's. "I'm sorry," he says, and Spencer waits a moment before nodding.

-

"It's like," Jon says, slowly, breathing out and stubbing his cigarette out against the wall, "how do you take two guys home and say, Mom, Dad, these are the guys I'm fucking?"

"It wouldn't be like that," Spencer says, but Jon shakes his head. 

"It would be," he says. "I'm pretty sure that's exactly how it would be."

"I'd do it," Spencer says, stubbornly. "I want to do that. Someday."

"I know," Jon says, softly.

-

They fuck up against the wall in the bathroom, Jon's fingers splayed across the tile as Spencer opens him up and pushes in.

"Jon, Jon, Jon," Spencer says, desperately, and Jon pushes back against him and tries not to miss the ghost of a hand against his shoulder or around his dick. 

"I know," Jon manages, "me too."

-

"If Brendon were here," Spencer says. He stops, and rolls Jon onto his back, pressing his wrists down into the pillows.

"What," Jon says, bucking his hips up, "What?"

Spencer leans down and touches his mouth to Jon's cheek. "We'd show him how much we wanted him," he says, softly, rubbing his dick against Jon's. "We'd look after him."

"Yeah," Jon manages, breathlessly, head tipping back.

"We'd make him want to stay," Spencer says, and his voice breaks as he runs his fingers down Jon's side, across his hip, his belly, down to his balls. "We would, right?"

"Yeah," Jon says, again. He pulls Spencer closer, too close, and wraps his arms around him. "We'd make him want to stay."

-

Jon wakes up slowly. There's a crick in his neck and he's pretty sure none of the couches on the bus were meant to sleep two. Spencer's pressed up against him, one arm keeping him from rolling off the edge.

Jon rubs at his eyes and tries to sit up without waking him. It doesn't work, and Spencer groans, sleepily.

"See," Brendon says, shakily, from where he's sitting across the lounge, watching them. "I told you that you didn't need me. The two of you are just fine without me."

"Brendon—" Jon shakes his head. "That's not, this isn't—"

"You didn't want us," Spencer says, groggily. He doesn't let go of Jon. "What were we supposed to do?"

-

Jon finds Brendon leaning up against the side of the bus.

"You here to bitch me out too?" Brendon asks. His fingers shake as he tries to light his cigarette.

"Spencer didn't mean that," Jon says, after a moment. "He's just—"

"A dick," Brendon says. "He's a dick."

"You broke up with him," Jon says, softly. 

"We weren't." Brendon looks stricken. "That wasn't. We weren't. We were fooling around. That's what we were doing, right?"

Jon shakes his head, sadly. "Spencer wants to take us home someday. To his Mom."

Brendon's expression makes Jon's heart hurt. 

"He couldn't want that," Brendon says, fiercely. "It's wrong."

"Not to Spence, it isn't," Jon says. He waits a beat, and then lies, "Not to me, either."

"Maybe the two of you are just really fucked up, then," Brendon says, shakily.

Jon shrugs. "Maybe," he says. "Doesn't make either of us want you any less."

Brendon shakes his head. "No," he says. "It doesn't work like that."

It could, Jon thinks. He throws the rest of his cigarette away.

-

Brendon's puking in the bathroom after drinking a mickey of vodka.

Spencer kneels down next to him and brushes his hair away from his forehead. "Hey," he says. 

Brendon's crying. He always cries when he throws up. "I'm okay," he says, wiping his face with his sleeve. 

"Yeah," Spencer says. He wishes Jon were here. He passes Brendon a glass of water and the bottle of mouthwash; Brendon swills and spits into the toilet bowl, and Spencer flushes. 

"Better?" Spencer asks. 

"No," Brendon admits, and it's easy for Spencer to wrap an arm around Brendon and for Brendon to rest his head against Spencer's shoulder.

-

Jon crawls into Spencer's bunk and pulls the covers up and over them both.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," Spencer says, too tired to cover up his desperation, and Jon catches his mouth in a kiss and strokes his hair.

-

"I'd jerk him off," Spencer says, rubbing his thumb over the head of Jon's cock. "I'd start by jerking him off and then I'd let him fuck my mouth."

Jon groans, his head thrown back on the pillow. Spencer jacks him slowly, one hand splayed across Jon's thigh. 

"He asked me to come on his face," Jon says, desperately. He whines as Spencer strokes a finger between his legs, behind his balls. His hips buck up against Spencer's hand. "Remember?"

"Fuck," Spencer manages. "That was so fucking hot."

"Yeah," Jon echoes, loudly, and Spencer jerks him harder.

-

Afterwards, it's still just the two of them, and a space neither of them wants to look at.

-

Brendon's puking in the bathroom but he won't let anyone in.

Jon sits in the hallway with his back against the wall and he repeats the words to every stupid song he can remember, under his breath, like bad poetry.

-

Spencer brings Brendon some Tylenol, a bottle of water and a packet of crackers.

Brendon looks tired, his skin pale and waxy. He takes the water and knocks back a handful of pills. 

Spencer sits down on the edge of the bunk. "Sorry," he says. "For making it worse."

Brendon shrugs. "I just," he trails off. "I don't get how you can think it's okay. The three of us. What we were doing."

Spencer touches Brendon's knee through the covers. "I want you," he says, carefully, "and Jon wants you."

Brendon makes a sound in his throat. 

"We miss you," Spencer goes on. "It's not the same."

"We were only ever fooling around," Brendon says. 

"No," Spencer says, softly, "we weren't."

-

Jon slides a cup of coffee across the table top. "That's the truck stop's finest blend," he says, as Brendon takes a gulp and winces. "Spencer says he talked to you."

Brendon nods. "Turns out we weren't just fooling around after all. Who knew?"

Jon shrugs. "Turns out we're both kind of in love with you," he says. 

Brendon coughs. 

"Yeah," Jon says. "I love you, and I love Spencer. Who'd have thought that?"

Brendon bites his lip and stares down at his coffee. He taps his foot relentlessly against the table leg.

-

Brendon hides out in his bunk with his PSP and doesn't come out.

Spencer stops playing Go Fish with Ryan after a while, and crawls under Jon's arm for a hug. 

"What if I scared him away for good?" Jon asks. 

"At least he knows, now," Spencer reasons, but he holds on tighter and doesn't look up.

-

"Brendon?" Spencer asks. It's really late.

"Fucking around isn't the same," Brendon says, breathlessly. "That's just... fucking around. It's not the same as what you're asking me. It's still not right."

Spencer nods. His chest feels tight. "When you're with us, does it feel wrong?"

"Shut up," Brendon says, sharply. "It doesn't matter what it feels like. No one's going to understand."

"We understand," Spencer says, softly. "We understand _you_." 

Brendon doesn't look away.

-

The club isn't any different to any of the others. Brendon's with some girl, all sleek hair and a wide smile and a skirt that Brendon keeps nudging further up her thighs.

They're hot— _too_ hot—and sweat slides down Spencer's spine. This isn't the kind of place they're going to get recognised, and Spencer thinks that maybe he's done caring, anyway. Jon's hands are down the back of Spencer's pants and Spencer's mouthing at Jon's neck. Spencer's staring over Jon's shoulder at Brendon across the dance floor. 

"Come on," Jon says, pulling at Spencer's arms. "Come on."

Jon pushes past people, past Ryan and some girl, pushes past everyone until they're standing next to Brendon. 

"Come back with us," Jon says, "back to the hotel."

Behind them, the girl catches her breath, but Spencer doesn't care. "Please," he says, and he doesn't care how desperate it makes him sound. He rubs his thumb across the back of Brendon's hand. 

Brendon waits a moment before nodding.

-

Jon can't stop touching, running his hands across Brendon's chest, under his jaw, in his hair. Brendon kisses hungrily, rocking back against Spencer's dick, and it's desperate and rushed and too fucking loud in the quiet of the hotel room.

Jon drops to his knees and takes Brendon's cock in his mouth and Brendon's gasped whine is enough to have Jon bucking up against his own hand. Spencer's hands are everywhere, in Jon's hair and around the base of Brendon's cock and Jon _knows_ that Spencer's dick is pressed up against Brendon's ass. He slides a hand between Brendon's thighs and his thumb brushes Spencer's cock, and it's like, it's everything. It's all three of them, there, together. 

He wants it to last forever. 

Jon comes first, and his rhythm on Brendon's cock falters as he tries to remember how to breathe, Spencer's mouth pressed to Brendon's shoulder, Brendon's hands against his skin.

He can't catch his breath.

-

Spencer finds Brendon in the hotel bathroom, crouched on the floor by the toilet.

"Hey," Brendon says, softly, but he doesn't move. He rests his head against the wall. 

Spencer kneels down and touches his forehead to Brendon's shoulder. 

"I can't love both of you," Brendon says. "I just can't."

"But you want to," Jon says, from the doorway. His chest hurts with every breath. "We want you to."

Brendon doesn't say anything.

-

"Come back to bed," Spencer says, after a while. "You'll get cold."

Brendon rests his forehead against Jon's chest, and lets Spencer press himself to his side, Jon's arm coming up to wrap around Spencer's shoulders.

"Come back to bed," Jon echoes, and his mouth is hot against Brendon's, his palm stroking down Brendon's chest, Spencer's fingers tangling with his. They can feel Brendon breathing in and out against their twined hands. 

"Okay," Brendon says, softly, after a while. "Okay."

-

Brendon's still there when they wake up, his mouth pressed up against Spencer's shoulder, his hand in Jon's.

For the first time in months, Jon feels like he can breathe.

Maybe this is how it goes.


End file.
